a cloud blocked sun
by sky.guinalie
Summary: Lazytown has been overrun by zombies, and as the gang travels beyond the city limits, they realize their home wasn't the only one. Now they're split up and struggling to survive in an unforgiving world. i apologize in advance for this, guys, but it had to be written. it's a little gory, nothing really bad though.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: yes, this is the obligatory lazytown zombie apocalpse au. enjoy!**

"Now I finally have the chance to be a real superhero," Ziggy said sleepily, under one of the two blankets they had.

Stingy and Stephanie exchanged a glance. Stingy closed his eyes halfway, turned up his nose, and got ready to make one of his usual remarks.

"We need one, Ziggy, so that's perfect," Stephanie said, before Stingy could say anything discouraging. She didn't really want to make light of the situation, but she thought of what Sportacus would do, and what he wouldn't do was let Ziggy get too scared. She watched the littler kid until he fell asleep, lightly snoring. She turned to Stingy. "We need a grown up," she whispered.

"We don't need anyone," Stingy replied, too loudly.

Stephanie winced, but Ziggy didn't stir.

"We'll do fine on our own. The only thing I regret is not bringing more of my things," Stingy sighed.

Lazytown had become quickly unsafe, overflowing with zombies from everywhere. No one had known where the creatures had come from, or how to heal a bite in time. The mayor had thought a trip to the president was in order, and knew the kids would be safe with Sportacus. He'd taken Bessie with him, maybe just to have company, but maybe because he knew she'd probably survive longer out of town. He promised to be back as soon as he had the president's insight and suggestions, but the moment he left, Stephanie was wondering if she'd ever see him again. Then, it was a blink of an eye until the crystal was going off, and Sportacus said that he'd be back as soon as possible as well, and if anything happened, go to Robbie for help. At that point, Ziggy had already been to scared to stay in his own house all alone, and had taken to spending nights at Stephanie's. It had been late one night when Stingy had showed up on her doorstep, holding his backpack over one shoulder and a goopy kitchen knife in the other, tears and snot all over his face, and implored them to leave town.

" _Stephanie, please!" Stingy wiped his nose on his sleeve, rueing that he didn't have a handkerchief. "They're everywhere, they're inside, I c-can't stay here. Lazytown isn't safe."_

" _Should we go to Robbie Rotten?" Stephanie asked him, raising an eyebrow. Even if Sportacus had said it, it wasn't an appealing option._

 _Stingy shook his head, eyes flicking behind him. "We need to just get out of here. Take Ziggy, come on!" He re-shouldered his backpack._

" _We need to get the other kids." Stephanie wouldn't budge on that, not in a million years. "I'd rather get bitten than leave Trixie or Pixel behind."_

" _Fine, we can find them, just please, let's hurry up." Stingy hiccuped, wiping tears off his cheeks. He added, as an afterthought, almost to himself, "They were inside my house, touching all my things, getting all that slimy grossness over everything."_

" _I'm going to pack some stuff," said Stephanie. "You wake Ziggy up." She didn't move._

 _Stingy let out a shaky sigh, managing to roll his eyes. "Um… aren't you going?"_

 _Stephanie hung her head, chewing on her lip. "If we do this, and leave, do you think-" She kicked the wall next to the door a couple times, not forcefully, just as something to do while she tried to phrase this. "Sportacus will still be able to find us, right?"_

 _The question hung in the doorway for a few uncomfortable seconds, and then Stingy closed the door behind himself. "Of course, he's a superhero. And he has a ship. He'll be able to find us anywhere."_

 _Stephanie nodded, trying to smile. "Yeah, you're right. I'll go get packed." She ran down the hallway into her room and grabbed her backpack from where it hung on her closet doorknob. "I'll need… a change of clothes," she mused out loud, putting a tank top, sweat pants, and a sweater in. "My hairbrush… a book… my diary…" She gazed longingly at her CD player, knowing it would never fit. She shook her head. "Okay. Toothbrush, toothpaste, bandaids." It was all in her backpack, which was only three fourths of the way full. She knew the moment they'd started to leave she'd remember all the things they needed and didn't pack, but she couldn't think of a single nother thing to add. She grabbed a stuffed animal off her bed and put it in the front pocket for Ziggy. Then, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and put on her coat and ran the bag downstairs._

 _Ziggy was standing bleary eyed, leaning against Stingy's legs. "Where are we going?"_

" _I don't know," Stephanie said._

" _Out of town," Stingy amended._

" _Do we have to?" Ziggy looked up at them both, very tired._

 _Stingy nodded. "Obviously. We'll die if we stay here, haven't either of you read any zombie books? There's always a trip involved. There's too many of them here." He had clearly gotten himself together while Stephanie was upstairs. If it hadn't been for the redness in his eyes and on his cheeks, no one would know he'd been crying._

" _Why are you wearing winter clothes, Stephanie?" Ziggy questioned. "It's summertime."_

 _Stephanie shrugged. "The nights might be cold. And plus, it's easier to carry on me than in my pack, and we'll need it some time."_

" _Do you have a blanket? And medicine just in case?" asked Ziggy, rubbing his eye with a little fist._

" _I brought my blankie, of course." Stingy patted his backpack. "No medicine, though."_

 _Stephanie's eyes lit up. "I'll grab my blanket too, just in case, and I'll get some medicine from the cabinet as well. Good thinking, Ziggy!"_

" _Should I pack something?" Ziggy asked, turning up to Stingy. "I have my sack here from when I moved all my clothes to Stephanie's. It's only little, not like a backpack, but…"_

" _Sure, whatever. Get a bunch of knives from the kitchen."_

" _Stingy! Superheroes don't use knives!" Ziggy crossed his arms and managed to look disapproving, unintentionally nailing a Sportacus impression._

 _Stingy bent over to look him in the eye and responded in a sing song, patronizing voice. "The kind that fight off zombies do."_

 _Ziggy glared at him._

" _Fine, if you don't want to carry them, I will. I know we'll need them. I've read enough books to figure that out." He sighed, and went over to the kitchen._

 _Ziggy followed him, after a moment. "I know! I'll pack food! A loaf of bread and some milk and-"_

" _We don't want to bring perishables," Stingy muttered._

" _Perish- what?" Ziggy froze, one hand in the fridge and one holding his sack._

 _Stingy rolled his eyes. "No dairy, no eggs. Are there two loaves of bread in there?"_

 _Ziggy nodded, grabbing them out and dropping them into his sack. He picked out various items, with Stingy's approval, until it was full. "This is sort of heavy."_

" _Well, we all want to eat." Stingy had taken two knives out of the drawer, and now had three. He wrapped them in a napkin and fit them into his backpack. He didn't plan on telling Stephanie about them until he had to. He didn't want to face her disapproval._

 _Stephanie raced back into the kitchen. "I have my blanket - my backpack is pretty full now - and I got some medicine from the bathroom cabinet. I also grabbed your toothbrush, Ziggy."_

" _Thanks."_

" _Welcome." Stephanie smiled. "Now, come on. Let's find Pixel and Trixie."_

They hadn't found Pixel or Trixie. They hadn't even been able to reach their houses, there were too many zombies. Stingy had started to cry again and Stephanie, going by what was now her mantra, had done what Sportacus would have, and kept in her own tears so as not to frighten the others. She snapped herself back to the present. "We do too need a grown up, we don't know what we're doing."

Stingy turned his nose up at her. "Well, I do. I've read-"

"Books, you read zombie books, I've heard it all before." Stephanie kept her voice down, but glared at him.

They were outside of Lazytown, and although she wouldn't like to admit it, Stingy's hypothesis had been right. They were safer. There were of course still rogue zombies, but nothing like the masses of them in town. They were camped along one of the roads leaving the city and heading towards one of the other cities, inside an abandoned post office. They had barricaded the door with as many chairs as they could find, but since they hadn't figured out how to lock it, they were on edge.

Pixel would know how to lock a door without a key, Stephanie thought absentmindedly. And Trixie would know how to unlock a door without a key. She shook her head. She was trying not to think about them, because all thoughts, even nice ones, would turn into ones where they were dead. And zombified. She shuddered.

"So we don't need anyone. We're doing great." Stingy pulled his blanket tighter around himself.

"I'd like someone," Stephanie murmured. "To look after us."

"Can we please get some sleep?" Stingy laid down, shivering. He didn't like there to be opinions that didn't match his. The post office floor was made of tile, and it chilled him to the bone. His blanket, however fluffy, wasn't all that good a protection.

"Yeah." Stephanie took off her coat and threw it over Stingy. She pulled her sweater out of her bag and put that on instead, coiling her scarf up under her head like a pillow. They had only been on the road for three days, and she already missed sleeping in a bed. After a long bit of silence in the dark, she heard a muffled and begrudged voice.

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

This zombie thing was getting old very fast. Robbie's periscope had nearly been gnawed off three times already, and he wasn't sure he wanted to risk losing it. And having the brat around sure wasn't helping. "Get out of my chair."

"Read me a story and I'll consider it," Trixie demanded. She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue.

"You," Robbie said, voice dropping to a dramatic gasp, "are a guest in _my_ lair! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Just did." Trixie stuck her tongue out.

Robbie hunched over further. Standing up for too long did major damage to his posture. "I should toss you back out for the zombies."

"Aw, you wouldn't." Trixie looked up at him, a sneer on her face but a little bit of worry in her eyes.

Robbie sneered back at her and sighed. "Maybe not. I should, but I don't want to climb up to the surface. Too far."

Trixie smiled, leaning back in the chair. She was safe for now. She could've guessed he'd be too lazy. And maybe that wasn't even the only reason.

"I don't have any books that you'd like," said Robbie, sitting down on the floor in front of his chair, his legs looking too long splayed out over the metal ground. "None with stories. They're all about real things. Brats like you don't enjoy real things, do you?"

"I'd give it a shot," Trixie said with a shrug.

Robbie hauled himself back up and sauntered over to his bookcase. He looked from title to title, not seeing anything boring enough to put the kid to sleep. He pulled out the least interesting one, _A History of Steam Rollers_ , and tucked it under his arm.

"You can- um- you can sit on the chair with me," Trixie called over.

Robbie squinted his eyes at her. "Why the sudden change, Tilly?"

"No reason, Ronald," she shot back. Then, she folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "Sportacus always sits with us when he reads aloud."

"He can read?" exclaimed Robbie. "Surprise, surprise!" He chuckled to himself over that one, and took a seat next to Trixie on the chair. He tried to spread out and take up as much room as possible, pulling up his legs and sticking his elbows out, so that she wouldn't have much space. It was in vain, he found. No matter what he did, she looked as comfortable as ever. It was his own fault, for having such a roomy chair. He cracked open the book and made a big deal of clearing his throat. " _The namesake of the steam roller,_ " he read, " _is tipping a hat to its two biggest components. The thing that powers it - the steam engine, patented in sixteen oh six and put into commercial use as a piston in seventeen twelve - and its purpose. Most of the vehicles follow the common design of the traction engine, differing in the front axle. In a traction engine, that axle would be occupied by wheels, but in the steam roller, that spot is taken up by the piece of steel piping reinforced all throughout that functions as the executor for-_ "

"I know you want to talk about real life," interrupted Trixie. "But have you got any other bits of real life to read about that don't make me want to get steam rolled over?"

Robbie snorted at that. It was hilarious, although he wouldn't admit it, and he threw a hand over his mouth the second it happened. He faked a sneeze to cover it up. "We could talk about real life real life." He looked across the chair at her.

Trixie was chewing the neckline of her shirt again, something she did when she was nervous or upset. She didn't meet his eyes.

"Well," Robbie tapped her chest where the spit had soaked into the fabric. "That's disgusting. Let's get you some clean clothes. And since they're really mine, then you can't chew them up. Okay?"

"Okay," Trixie agreed. She knew it was far fetched to assume, but she almost thought Robbie suggested it to get her mind off what was happening above ground. Even if they argued nearly all the time, they did have a lot of things in common, as it was turning out, and she was actually very grateful for his hospitality.

They went over to an armoire that stood in the corner of the room, painted the same grey and motley blue as everything else in the lair.

"What do you want?" asked Robbie, without opening the doors.

"Something cozy." Trixie gazed at the armoire, wondering what kind of things Robbie kept in there. He only ever wore his stupid tight suit thing, and the occasional disguise.

"It's summer," Robbie replied, in a voice that sounded wilted.

Trixie crossed her arms again. "You asked what I wanted. Plus, none of it's gonna fit me anyways. You're miles taller than me."

"Sleep clothes or daytime clothes?" asked Robbie, hand on the armoire doorknob.

"Sleep clothes for now, and maybe I can pick out daytime clothes in the morning?"

Robbie rolled his eyes. "These are mine, remember. Don't get cocky. I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart-"

"Sure, sure. You're probably just scared that Sportacus will yell at you when he gets back for being mean to me."

Robbie was taken aback, but he held in an overdramatic reaction. He honestly hadn't given Sportacus a second thought since the hero had taken off for another town aside from the now-and-again 'someone to help me move this would be nice' when encountering a heavy object. "Not the case, Tricia." He pulled the armoire door open and peeked into one of the drawers, picking up the only thing in the entire wardrobe, the rest of the drawers and hangers empty. "Here."

Trixie held out the clothes, squinting at them. They were her favorite red, and looked half knit, half woven, and very comfortable. The fabric felt soft and thick. They seemed to be exactly her size, even accommodating her unusually broad shoulders for a girl her age. "How do you have stuff that'll fit me?"

Robbie smiled too widely in an intended mockery. "Shrunk in the wash." Because what was he going to tell her? That he just thought them up with his hand on the doorknob? Lying to children was much easier than lying to adults anyways.

"Where can I change?" she asked.

"Wherever." He pushed the drawer back in and shut the armoire doors, turning to see her half undressed. He gasped, spinning back around with his hands over his eyes. Admittedly, he was overreacting to entertain her, but it was a bit of a shock.

"You said wherever." Trixie shrugged, finishing up with buttoning the shirt. "These are…" She was going to say something too nice, and she'd caught herself just in time. If there was any reason to be rougher than usual, it'd be due to a zombie apocalypse. She needed to keep up her image. "...pretty good. I mean, my old pajamas were better, but…"

Robbie sneered at her. "Feel free to go out and get them." He didn't mean it. He'd never tell her, but the second she started towards the ladder out, he'd do anything to keep her from it. She'd only been staying with him for about five days, and as much as he told himself not to get attached - this was the apocalypse, after all - she was growing on him like mold. Lichen. Like something rotten.


	3. Chapter 3

"We're using up the last of the bread for breakfast," Stingy said forlornly. "You should've packed more, Ziggy."

"That was all there was!" Ziggy exclaimed, eyebrows dropping over his eyes as he sucked his cheeks in angrily.

Stephanie sighed. They'd been at each other's throats - and Stingy at hers - since they woke up. They were still at the post office for the time being, but they'd start the day's march once they were done breakfast. "It's okay, guys. We still have apples and-" She looked into Ziggy's pack. "-some canned soup. We'll be fine."

"Doesn't sound fine," Stingy muttered.

That was it for Stephanie. She'd been putting up with him all morning and she'd had enough. "Stingy, it was your idea to leave town. We all need to manage as best we can, and that means being decent to all of us. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. We could be back at my house right now if it wasn't for you." She picked up her bread and cup of water and stormed over to sit a few meters away, turning her back to them. She ignored them for a few minutes, and then Ziggy came over to sit by her too.

He kept looking back over his shoulder at Stingy, who would in turn look down and pretend he hadn't been watching them.

It was an uncomfortable breakfast at the very best. Stingy and Stephanie were sitting up straight and pointedly glaring at anything but each other, and Ziggy kept looking back and forth between them and sighing.

"Um, we should get going," Ziggy said eventually. Everyone was done eating, and had been for several minutes. "Let's walk a lot today, huh? Guys?"

Finally, Stephanie stood up. "Yeah, you're right. Stingy, I'm sorry I snapped at you," she called over.

"Oh," Stingy called back, getting up as well. It wasn't likely that he would ever apologize for anything.

Stephanie bit back a mean comment and smiled instead. "Let's fill up our water bottles, guys. We don't know if we'll get to go inside again for a while so let's drink sparingly today."

They went to the tap in the post office bathroom and filled their bottles one by one. Stingy, who made sure to do his first, wondered when running water would stop working. It was only a matter of time, he knew, from his books. He didn't say it out loud, though. It was more a topic for his and Stephanie's whisper talks after Ziggy had fallen asleep.

They hit the road again. It was only an hour or two until Stingy started to complain, and in another hour, Ziggy was struggling to hold whining in.

"I'll carry your bag, Ziggy," Stephanie offered, and he gladly handed it over.

"Thanks," said Ziggy, stretching his shoulders. "Even superheroes need a break sometimes."

Stephanie nodded, and watched him run ahead, freed of weight. There was no one else on the road, and there hadn't been all day. It was safe, but it made her feel bad, like there were lots of awful things just waiting around the bend, hiding from sight. The calm before a storm, sort of. But by that logic, they had already escaped the storm. The storm had been Lazytown. She missed it already. Sleeping in her bed, in her own room, and having all the food she wanted. She missed Uncle Milford and Sportacus most of all. They both had more important things to do, she knew that, and if they were ever in trouble, she was sure Sportacus would find them and save them. She guessed running out of food wasn't really trouble.

With Ziggy's sack on one shoulder and her own pack on the other, her back was starting to hurt. The sun beat down on them, and although there was a cool breeze, she'd had to stuff her jacket into Ziggy's sack and she stopped to take off her scarf as well.

"Oh, thank god," Stingy said, sitting down and throwing off his backpack. They were traveling along a dirt road, the pebbles yellow and dusty and reflecting the gray of the sky. "We're taking a break."

"I'm only putting away my scarf," Stephanie told him.

Stingy flopped onto the road, lying on his back in the dust. "Can we please have a break?"

"Fine. Just for a few minutes." Stephanie sat down and wiped her forehead. Walking all day, every day was exhausting to begin with, and that was before she even factored in the rationing of the food. They needed a lot more of it to do the amount of traveling they were doing. But, they had to figure out a way to make what they had work, even if they were tired. She called Ziggy back to them, from where he was playing up ahead on the road.

"Woohoo, a break," Ziggy whooped, tumbling over into them. He brushed dust off of his shirt.

"Not that you needed it," muttered Stingy as he reached up to shield his eyes from the sun. "You're not doing anything to help."

Ziggy twisted his mouth up into a sort of grimace and looked down at his shoes.

"Cut him some slack, Stingy," snapped Stephanie. "He's six years old, just give it a rest." She let out a breath and leaned against her backpack. The sun was hot, and she was tired.

Stingy gave a sharp sniff and rolled over to turn away from her, but didn't say anything.

Ziggy chewed on his lip and looked from friend to friend, rocking back and forth. There was too much annoyance in the air, and it made him uncomfortable. He didn't know a lot of things, but he could tell when people were upset, and both of them were upset. "I'll go play, okay?"

"Okay. Stay on the road," Stephanie instructed.

On both sides of the road, there were patchy thorn bushes, forming an inconsistent barrier of sorts, and then a little hill down to the fields that extended in all directions as far as they could see. The bushes didn't have any flowers or berries on the, but instead bore greyish, small, dry leaves.

Stephanie shook her hair into her face in an attempt to block out the sun, and relaxed into the backpack. Maybe just a tiny bit of rest would be good. Everything told her not to stop like this, but her body needed it. The warmth of the sun surrounded her, and squinting was getting too tiring. Her eyelids drooped, weighing half a ton each, until she finally closed her eyes. The light felt good on her bare arms.

"Hey, um, Stephanie?" Stingy's thin voice disrupted her, as did his fingers, which were prodding at her shoulder.

Stephanie sat up away from her backpack. "Yeah?" She brushed her hair out of her eyes. Her body was still half asleep, and she was getting a headache.

"It's been, um, it's- it's been a while," Stingy stammered.

"I just took a rest for a couple minutes," replied Stephanie, shaking her head at him with a smile.

Stingy winced. "Try half an hour. And- and, um, I can't find Ziggy."

"What?" Stephanie jumped to her feet, turning a complete circle and scanning the road. Nothing, not for as far as she could see, and it wasn't like Ziggy could make it out of eyeshot on a road as flat as this one. "Ziggy! Ziggy?" She took off down the road, running as fast as she could. Zombies must have found him, she told herself, must have eaten him up. He was hardly even meal sized, he was too small. She rubbed tears out of her eyes with a fist.

"If he was here you would have seen him," Stingy called, hanging back with their things.

"No, no-" Stephanie's words got caught up in her throat and she looked out into the fields. "He's- he's just hiding, he can't be-"

"Steph," Stingy said, his voice stretching over the distance and seeming weaker than normal. "Come on, there's no way…"

"There's no zombies here," cried Stephanie, running a hand through her hair. "How can they have gotten him if he's not here?" When she didn't get a response, she tried again. "Stingy, he can't have gotten eaten, there aren't any- any zombies." She knew she was reaching for any way that Ziggy could be alive and safe, and that her words were mostly empty. "Stingy-"

"Look down the road," Stingy said, his voice strangely calm. It wasn't calm because he was calm, of course, but there is a human phenomenon that occurs when a thing that somehow makes an already terrible situation worse is revealed to somebody, and they feel washed over and frozen. As a result, their voice often comes out sounding much calmer than they are, letting everything seemingly become much more dire.

She did.

There were two figures on the horizon, too far away to make out details. They looked lumpy, even deformed. They were little more than silhouettes, but they had a greyish navy color scheme and they appeared to be moving slowly.

Stephanie ran back to their bags.

"We have to get off the road and hide," Stingy said, grabbing his backpack.

"We have to find Ziggy," replied Stephanie.

"Stephanie, we could die."

"He could die!"

"He's already-" Stingy's head dropped, and his shoulders sunk. "Let's just hide, please."

Stephanie's hands were shaking, and she was barely holding in sobs. She picked up her backpack, and Ziggy's sack, and she let Stingy pull her off the road and through the bushes to crouch at the bottom of the hill.


	4. Chapter 4

Night fell in Lazytown. There were still stars, and there was still a breeze. There was also a gut-wrenching silence, blanketing everything that could've made things feel alright. And there were the zombies. If he didn't look down, he wouldn't see them. They had come into his house right after noon, breaking through the locks and barricades he'd set up. He'd run upstairs and when that wasn't enough, he'd climbed up onto the roof. Now, he sat with his knees up and his feet bracing himself, shivering, and tensing his muscles so as not to fall but for long enough to hurt his entire body.

He'd cried out all his energy, and while most of it had stopped, a tear occasionally ran down his cheek. He could see everything from his roof, and he couldn't see a single other person. The entire town must have been eaten up. Converted. Whatever.

He rubbed a hand under his nose and looked up at the stars. There were so many billions of worlds out there, that were clean and not tainted like this one. He guessed that he was the one destined to survive out of everyone in town, although a world without his friends didn't appeal to him. What if he just fell off the roof? It'd almost be an accident, he could really lose balance at any moment.

Before he left, Sportacus had told him to go to Robbie if he needed anything, but he couldn't make it to the lair. He couldn't even make it to the ground. He nearly laughed at himself, and he stopped the noise from leaving his throat. The last thing he needed was for zombies to hear him.

Deep breath, he told himself. Pixel, get it together. Take another breath, maybe stretch. He lifted his arms above his head for the first time since noon, and he almost toppled off the roof. The tension in his shoulders increased, and he snapped his hands back down to the shingles. His breath came in gasps, and he felt incredibly dizzy. He tried to let some of the stress out of his muscles, but it didn't work.

Everything hurt. Another tear crept down his cheek.

He wished he wasn't alone. Facing death and everything that came with it would be much easier if he had someone with him. And maybe, with one of his friends, he'd even have a chance of survival. Of course, Stephanie would be his first choice. He smiled. She'd know what to do. How to adapt to the new world, and how to hide safely. She probably wouldn't even hide, she'd just fight all the zombies off. But at this point, he'd even take Stingy over being alone. Even though Stingy was sort of irritating and hard to deal with, the more Pixel thought about him, the more he wished that even he was alright, even if it was stupid to even entertain the notion.

He closed his eyes and pictured them. They were at the sports field, and the sun was shining. There wasn't a zombie to be seen. Stingy and Trixie were fighting over something stupid, like a soccer ball, and Ziggy was tooling around on his own, like he did, eyes on the floor and sometimes on the lollipop in his hand, occasionally breaking into a momentary run and seeing how his cape flew out behind him. Stephanie was doing stretches by the gate, touching her toes and doing little jumps. She looked up, noticed him, and beckoned him over.

None of them were talking, in the vision. Because it wasn't real, maybe. Maybe visions couldn't talk. Stingy and Trixie argued with expressions and hand gestures, and Ziggy's usual giggles were just smiles.

Pixel pulled himself out of the vision and sighed, looking back up and trying to pick out the brightest star in the sky. Without the usual lights of the town, so many more were visible.


	5. Chapter 5

They walked through the bushes, trying to navigate with Stephanie's flashlight, which, as Stingy kept pointing out, would run out of batteries soon. It wasn't the heavy duty kind that they should have in a zombie apocalypse, but instead one of the hand sized, colorful, plastic clip on ones, that hung off strings on a backpack. They had unclipped it and were using it to avoid the thorniest parts of their path, but the light it gave off was weak and didn't do much to keep their legs safe.

Their conversations had been short and only about necessities, as they were both feeling numbed, like the way things sound from underwater. Talking about anything else than what they absolutely had to seemed frivolous and stupid.

The two figures on the road had grown closer all day, and now they were camped right in plain sight, with a fire going, about a quarter of a mile away from the kids. The plan was to sneak past them and hope they couldn't hear anything, and then get back onto the road and run as far as they could. It was Stingy's plan. He thought it was the cleverest thing, and in all honesty it would provide a good chance for escape, but Stephanie felt wrong doing it.

She knew that if they stayed, they would be in trouble, but to leave felt even worse. What if Ziggy came back and they weren't there? And he was lost, and they could've gotten him safe just by staying a little while longer? She kept thinking of just waiting a few days in the bushes. The travelers would keep going without even seeing them, and they could make sure they weren't missing Ziggy. In fact, she almost wanted to go over to the fire and meet the travelers. She didn't think they could be that bad, after all they were probably just trying to survive. But Stingy said that he knew from his books that other people were almost as dangerous as zombies.

She sighed, stepping over a big stone on the hill. Stingy was up a few meters ahead, with the flashlight, and she could barely see where she was going. Thorns kept scraping her legs and rocks kept twisting her ankles. She was about to ask him to slow down and let her catch up, but she heard him scream, and the flashlight fell and began to roll down the hill.

In complete darkness, she stumbled over to him and felt his shoulders out with her hands. He was standing up. "Stingy, what's going on?"

"I- I saw- he's- it's Ziggy." Stingy's words came out as a whimper, and he was shaking.

"What?" Stephanie breathed, rubbing his arms and trying to calm him down.

"He was here, he was- he was lying right here, and I-"

"Hold on." Stephanie felt her way down the hill and picked up the flashlight. She climbed back up, finally able to see where she was stepping. She lifted it up as she made her way back to the top of the hill.

Stingy winced when it fell on him, throwing his arms in front of his eyes. Then, he pointed to the ground before his feet.

Stephanie joined him where the bushes started, and directed her flashlight beam to follow his finger.

It _was_ Ziggy. His eyes were closed, his face was covered in dirt, and his hair was stained with presumably the same. His clothes had some rips on them and he was tangled up in the bushes. Whatever had happened to him, it must have happened very quietly and very quickly.

Stingy started crying and moving his legs, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he wanted to run but couldn't.

"Hold the flashlight," Stephanie said, and handed it to him.

He dropped it, and immediately bent down to pick it up again.

Stephanie knelt down. "Ziggy. Ziggy," she said, shaking him lightly. He felt cold and limp, flopping from side to side when she moved him. "He's not waking up."

"Well, yeah, I can see that," Stingy exclaimed, voice strained and thick with tears. He instantly covered his mouth with the hand free of the flashlight, glancing up to the road, where the fire was burning in the close distance. He started to cry harder.

"Hey, Ziggy." She shook him harder. She told herself not to panic, and remembered for once not something Sportacus had taught her, but something her uncle had. She grabbed a handful of dust and pebbles from the road and held her hand as close as she could to Ziggy's mouth and nose.  
"What are you doing?" groaned Stingy, wiping his nose and kicking his foot against the ground in increasing desperation and fear.

"Hold the light closer," Stephanie instructed, the fact that she knew what she was doing now keeping her together.

Stingy crouched down, shining the flashlight on Ziggy's face.

"Look!" said Stephanie, starting to smile. The dust was moving every few seconds, particles being blown into the air and shining like little stars in the beam of the flashlight. "He's breathing."

"Thank god," Stingy murmured. "Why won't he wake up?"

He's right, thought Stephanie. If he's breathing then why is he so cold? "We need to get help."

"Where?" We're all on our own out here, we need to deal with things by ourselves!" Again, he realized he'd talked too loudly a second too late. His eyes flicked to the fire in fear.

"That's it," Stephanie whispered, her voice hushed like someone's who just realized a very important thing. "We have to go to the fire. To the travelers."

"What? Are you insane?" Stingy stood up abruptly, taking a few steps away. "I am _not_ going over there, no way."

"They might be able to help," said Stephanie, getting her arms under Ziggy and lifting him up. He was pretty heavy, for a kid his age. Or maybe she was just tired.

"No, they might kill us. I've read all about-"

"Stingy, if you don't want to come, you don't have to. I'm going to try and save him." Stephanie stumbled through the bushes and onto the road, Ziggy in her arms.

"Don't leave me alone!" Stingy called. "It's dangerous! I could get bitten!"

"Well, come, then," Stephanie called back. "And bring Ziggy's sack, I dropped it when you dropped the flashlight the first time."

In a few moments, Stingy ran onto the road beside her, his face scrunched up in irritation, and to stop himself from crying any more. Ziggy's sack was hanging over his arm.

In about fifteen tense minutes without any conversation, they approached the glow of the fire. Stephanie's arms had begun to ache, and Stingy was shaking again. Stepping in the light felt unsafe, but they had no other option.

"Hello? We-"

A gun was pointing at her head from across the fire.

Stingy jumped behind Stephanie, and she spun to shield Ziggy. Last month, she never would have guessed she'd ever be in this situation, and she hadn't a clue what to do. Adrenaline was filling her body, and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. "We need help," she yelled.

"Ollie, those aren't zombies, put the gun down," someone cried.

Stephanie tentatively turned back around.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," said the man holding the gun, and he set it down on the case next to him. He had the same accent as the woman with him, who'd spoken first, and he wore a white tank top stained with mud and other things, a coat tied around his waist, and navy pants. "I am so sorry."

"Children," gasped the woman, clasping her little hands to her chest. She was plump, nothing but soft and sweet looking. She had on a dress and a knitted sweater, with leg warmers that were also knitted and leather shoes. "Come into the warmth, come on." She beckoned. "What happened?"

"We don't know," said Stephanie, still breathing hard. "We lost track of him during the day and we just found him like this. I-"

"No, love, I mean what happened that made you children walk out here on your own?" asked the woman, her voice as soft as she looked.

Stephanie nodded, trying again. "Well, our town-"

"We don't have parents," cried Stingy, stepping closer to the fire. "And-and our town is full of zombies, and our fr-friends are gone and-" He took a gulp of air, glaring into the flames. Tears streamed down his cheeks again.

The woman went over and hugged him, rubbing his back. "Hush, now. It's alright."

"Let me take a look at your little pal," the man said to Stephanie, inviting her over with a jerk of his head.

She took Ziggy over and gently gave him to the man.

"I'm no doctor," he said, starting to comb his fingers through Ziggy's hair, "but I got some first aid training at the academy, so let's see."

"The academy?" asked Stephanie, watching him work.

"Yeah, the police academy," answered the man. "Oh, see? Right here." He pointed to a spot on Ziggy's head.

Stephanie couldn't see anything through all the mud and what she realized with a jolt to her stomach was blood in Ziggy's hair.

"He fell. Or something hit him. Knocked him out cold, and look at this mess," the man said. "How long since you misplaced him?"

"It was about eight hours from now, I think. It wasn't even lunchtime." Stephanie felt awful for not looking harder and finding him sooner.

The man sighed. "Don't beat yourself up over it, it's nothing we can't fix. Er, I believe."

"I have medicine," Stephanie said. She wanted very badly to help, thinking it might shake off the feeling that this was her fault. "And bandaids, in my backpack."

"No need, we'll use mine. What he could use is some water, to clean off the cut and let me get a look at it." The man laid Ziggy down on the quilt he'd been sitting on, then took a canteen from his pack. He uncapped it and poured some over Ziggy's hair, starting to wash out the blood and mud.

Stephanie sat down on the edge of the quilt and watched the woman fetch two more quilts out of her basket, one which she put under Stingy and one which she wrapped around his shoulders. Looking back to Ziggy, Stephanie wondered when he'd wake up. "You said the police academy?" she murmured, wanting to keep up a conversation to get her mind off that thought of 'he never _will_ wake up' nagging in the back of her mind. "Are you an officer?"

"Yep. Graduated top of the class." The man got a tube of something out of his pack and dabbed it onto Ziggy's head, where he'd parted the hair.

"We don't have-" She sighed. "We _didn't_ have a police officer in my town." It's not really my town anymore, she thought.

"Not a lot of crime there, then?" He pulled out a roll of bandages and wrapped them around to cover the wound.

Stephanie shook her head before realizing he wasn't looking. "Not at all. I mean, Trixie, she's my best friend, she would-" She bit her lip hard, scrunching up her face. She _was_ your best friend, she yelled at herself in her head.

"She would…?"

Stephanie took a deep breath. "She'd do all sorts of mean stuff like hit us with her slingshot and draw on the walls, but I don't think any of that's really illegal. And she was actually really nice. And then we had our town villain, but I'm pretty sure he never committed any crimes either. And…"

The time passed, Stephanie talking to the man as he patched Ziggy up, Stingy talking to the woman, and the fire burning away. They slept on the quilts that night, by the warmth of the flames, with people to protect them for the first time since before they left.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are we going to stay down here forever?"

"Are you going to wear those pajamas forever?"

"I'll take them off when you give me new clothes."

"You can have new clothes whenever you want!"

"Really?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

They were sitting together on the floor of the lair watching television, their backs against the footrest of the chair. Since he hadn't been able to get the tv to rest at the right height, they had to make do and be slightly less comfortable.

"It's weird that there's still tv, have you thought about that?" asked Trixie. "I feel like it should have… gone out or something."

"It just tells us things are better other places than they are here," said Robbie. Talking about what was going on felt a little uncomfortable, since she was just a kid, but she'd always been the toughest out of all the little jerks. She could take it. "That's nice. Maybe there's no zombies where they make tv." He was sure that wasn't true, since all the news reports and broadcasts were dire and full of reanimation.

"Where _do_ they make tv?" she asked.

"I haven't thought about that either."

"Okay."

They watched some more. Neither of them were really watching, though, and for Trixie it was just time to think, mostly about what had happened, and what was going to happen. For Robbie, it was time to space out and wish he was somewhere else. Eventually, they turned it off.

"I'll make lunch if you get me some day clothes," Trixie offered, stretching.

"Cinnamon toast, please."

"That's not a good lunch," she reprimanded.

They're all little Sportaci, Robbie thought. All of them, even her. And it wasn't even a bad thing, in his mind. It might have been endearing. Well, he could tell Sportacus had been gone too long when he started thinking nice things about him. "But I want it, and so do you."

"Do not." Trixie threw her hands onto her hips.

"Then make whatever you like, fine," Robbie muttered. "I don't care. What do you want for clothes?"

Trixie tapped her chin, thinking. "Something sturdy. Good to roughhouse in. And some socks."

"Are you sure you don't want a nice dress?" asked Robbie, smiling in a way that let her know he was making fun of her.

"Ew, not in a million years!" She stomped her foot.

"Good choice," Robbie said, smile becoming genuine. "Dresses never end well. You try to run in them and you trip and then you die."

Trixie nodded, and they went their separate ways, her to the kitchen and him to the armoire. The ' _and then you die_ ' seemed at first like the usual Robbie Rotten drama, but maybe tripping could mean death now. If they ever did go up to the surface.

"Are overalls good?" he called over, hand on the doorknob.

"Perfect!" she answered. She pulled things out of the refrigerator. It was weird to her that he had one, since he made food with all sorts of machines and fridges seemed suited for regular food, the kind that you buy in a store.

He came over, carrying a stack of things. "So- you have a shirt, a pair of socks, and your dumb overalls. Need anything else, just ask."

"Thanks. Lunch is in the toaster oven." Trixie grabbed the clothes and started to change.

"Will you ever learn common decency, Truffle?" Robbie scowled, looking away. "You could go to the bathroom, or the bedroom, or even just into the hall."

"Shut up, your nose twitches in your sleep." She finished getting dressed and stood up, running to the toaster just as it dinged. "Do you think power will go out?"

Robbie shrugged. "Maybe. I have a steam generator just in case."

"Are we really never leaving? What if we run out of food? What if there's no fresh air or something?" Trixie pulled stuff out and onto two plates, which she'd taken from the cupboard ahead of time.

"I don't want to leave," Robbie said firmly.

Trixie sighed, sprinkling something over the meal. She stopped, shoulders sinking. "I just- I keep wondering if someone else is alive still, up there. One of my friends. I know it's stupid, but I- I want- and Sportacus isn't even here, but this is his town and we're in danger and I just- I don't know."

"Well, his stupid crystal prioritizes if there's more than one person in trouble," Robbie explained, fighting the strong urge to mock the bleeping thing on his chest. "I guess there are worse situations than ours right now. No one's safe."

"But he's our hero." Trixie kicked the counter cabinet, it was right at foot level and hard to resist.

"He's everyone's hero, kid." Robbie gave a shrug, coming to look over her shoulder. "You made cinnamon toast?"

"Yeah." Trixie peered up at him.

He leaned his arms on her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head, bending over considerably to do so. "Thanks a million, Trixie."

Trixie raised one eyebrow, a half smile lifting one side of her mouth. She hated to say it, but that made her chest feel very warm. Not just that he called her by her correct name, maybe even for the first time since she tumbled down the tunnel into the lair, but also because he simply said thank you. So she knew that she wasn't being an inconvenience, staying with him like she was. She shook it off and scoffed. "It was no problem, don't make it a big deal, D- Robbie." She bit her lip, but put on a smile before shaking him off and turning around and giving him the thumbs up.

They brought their plates over to the chair and snuggled up. Despite it being summer, everything seemed cold. Maybe because gaining warmth from something you have control over makes the apocalypse feel a little less imposing. Maybe because the apocalypse was just meant to feel cold.

Toast wasn't much of a lunch, and they were finished rather quickly, crumbs getting all over the chair and on Trixie's new overalls.

"Listen, about your friends…" Robbie said cautiously, his voice trailing away into what he pretended was a cough, so as not to make the abrupt ending awkward.

"Yeah?" Trixie craned her neck to look him in the eye. It was hard, she was almost sitting in his lap.

"I have something that'll tell us where one of them is, but…" He took a deep breath and kept going. "It might not be nice. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course," Trixie said solemnly. She hoped it wasn't gorey. Not that she was scared of blood or anything, she just would prefer for it to be peaceful. Just like whoever it was was sleeping. Because she knew she couldn't get her hopes up for them being alive.

Robbie jumped out of the chair and ran down the hall, coming back in a few minutes after a few crashes with something that looked suspiciously just like a rock. Well, a see through-ish very jagged rock. It was almost crystally, honestly. "This," he proclaimed, making his way back over, "is a foster stone. All these little pieces that fall off and I can see where they are. Mostly in my desk drawer, but your greedy friend Stinky stole one."

"Oh my god," Trixie gasped. "How do we make it work? Where is he?"

"Are you sure-"

"Yes! I already said! Come on!" She tapped the stone, and Robbie yanked it away.

"Alright." He held it with both hands and whispered something at it, then shook it. "Take a look. Although I don't think you'd- wait." He squinted at it. "Wait, look. Look!"

Stingy was by a fire, wrapped up in a blanket. He looked ready to fall asleep, even though it was noontime. There were people moving around him, but it was too blurry to make them out. There was a flash of telltale pink, and there was definitely more than one adult.

"How far away are they?" asked Trixie, holding in a squeal and pressing her hand against the rock.

"Miles and miles. Really far," Robbie said, smiling despite himself. "I can't believe they made it that far, actually."

Trixie ran to the ladder, then back. "We have to go find them, come on. Come on!"

"Trixie…" Robbie fiddled with his vest.

Trixie whirled back around to face him. "They're alive, both of them. I need to find them now, before anything happens to them, so I can protect them!" She snarled. "I knew you weren't going to like this, so you don't have to come! I'll do it on my own!"

"No, I-" Robbie shook his head, grinning. "I was just going to say that it's a long journey, so we have a lot to pack before we go anywhere."

"What?" Trixie's eyebrows slowly lifted from where they stood low over her eyes.

"We need to pack, Twizzler. Come along." Robbie gestured over to a pile of suitcases, bags, and other forms of luggage transportation in one corner of the lair.

"Are you serious?" Trixie ran over and hugged him, her arms around his ribcage.

Robbie sneered down at her and patted her head. "Let go. Let go, please."

They went over to the pile and started to sort through it, trying to find the most useful ones. What to actually put in them would come later.

"Did you really think you could protect your doofus friends from a million zillion zombies?" asked Robbie conversationally.

"Yeah, and I still do," Trixie said firmly, pulling out a satchel and examining it.

"That's my girl."


	7. Chapter 7

It was nighttime again. Nighttime seemed to come far too often now, but Pixel didn't mind. The temperature dropped, and while it was a little chilly at least it gave him a break from the scorching sun. He was less tired at night, actually, so that was nice as well. What he liked the most, though, were the stars. He could look up at them and lose track of time, or pretend he was somewhere else.

That was a favorite pastime, thinking up a scenario in his head and playing it out with his eyes closed. Sometimes it was that he got brave enough to slide off the roof and fight his way through the zombies, making it past the sports field and even on, to the gate. He'd push through it and then take off, running as fast as his legs could carry him, which was surprisingly fast for someone who hadn't slept in three days. Then there would be no more zombies, and he could barely see Lazytown, but the road was a good one, a breeze blowing by and the stars above him.

Sometimes, it was that something grabbed him from behind and pulled him down off the roof, and he came off it very easily, like a sticker from a sheet. He was so tired that he practically fell off. Zombies would surround him, and he'd be too weak to fight them away. They'd bite him and leave, because maybe they weren't hungry enough to eat him. He'd sit on the ground and feel himself die, and then wake up again. He wasn't sure how long a zombie bite took to kill you, so this one wasn't very accurate.

Sometimes it was him with all of his friends. He wasn't sure where they were. Nowhere in Lazytown, he was positive about that. He didn't recognize any of the surroundings, but it might have been a hotel, because there were lots of floors and a swimming pool. He'd never actually been to a hotel before, but he pictured this one very nicely. They sat in the lobby, getting excited over frivolous things, like they used to before any of this started. Ziggy had his signature lollipop, and Trixie wasn't even fighting with Stingy. They were all just smiling at each other, and Stephanie hugged everyone a lot. That was a good one.

His favorite one, though was something different. He closed his eyes and thought it up now. _He was lying in a field, and it was nighttime. The grass was tall and thick and cold, but not wet, and it was a comforting contrast with the hot summer breeze._

" _It seems like a fever dream." Stephanie was lying beside him, and she turned her head to him._

" _I can barely remember it," he replied. She looked older than she was, maybe by five or six years, and when he looked down at himself he was the same._

" _This is weird, but sometimes I wish we could go back to Lazytown. Just to see it, see what happened to it," Stephanie said. "It seems so fantastical that there were zombies there, but I can almost surely remember having to escape town through the tunnel under city hall. How did you get out again?"_

" _I think I fought my way through them," Pixel answered. "I was up on my roof, and one day I just couldn't take it anymore and went for it. I wasn't sure if I'd die or not. But I made it out of town, and then I ran through the field and found you in the forest."_

" _I remember that," sighed Stephanie. "You_ are _brave, Pixel."_

" _Aw, you too. The tunnels must have been scary," he said, smiling._

" _I can't even picture them now. I feel like I made the whole thing up and got a little too invested in a game about it." She looked back up at the stars._

" _Me too," he agreed, following her gaze._

" _But I know it was real," she said, voice becoming more distressed. "How else would I have lost my Uncle Milford, or my best friend Trixie?"_

 _Pixel reached over and rubbed her shoulder. "It's okay. That was a long time ago. They're in a better place now."_

"Pixel, we have to go."

" _Go where? We live in the forest, and I'm not going back to Lazy-"_

"Pixel!"

He felt a hand shaking his shoulder, and he opened his eyes. "Sportacus?"

"Yeah," Sportacus nodded. He was crouched on the roof, one hand on his ladder. "If you need anything, go in and get it."

"I can't, there's zombies in there," Pixel said. He supposed he should be more excited, but he was too tired. "I thought you weren't going to come back."

"You thought wrong. I looked for the other kids and I couldn't find them. They weren't in their houses or anywhere." Sportacus gazed down at the town below them, and the zombies filling it. "They're not in my crystal, though, so wherever they are, they're safe." Or dead. You couldn't be in trouble if you were already dead. But he didn't say that out loud. "Can you climb the ladder?"

"I don't know," Pixel said, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if he could even stand up.

"Okay, no problem. Just hold on really tight, okay?" Sportacus pulled Pixel up and guided him to the ladder. "Get one foot on a rung, there. I'll have it pull us up." He shouted something to the ship, and they started moving.

Pixel felt very dizzy. He would have thought that he'd be enjoying a rescue much more than this, but he guessed it was easy to underestimate how exhausted you were if you didn't move all day. His fingers hurt from holding onto the ladder so tightly, and he was worried his foot would slip off and he'd fall. He looked up, and saw the airship getting closer and closer. For some reason, that increased his dizziness, maybe because he was getting further and further from the ground, or maybe because it was a large object changing proportion in front of his eyes.

Something opened in the ship's belly, like a little doorway, and Sportacus hopped through it once they were parallel. "Come on, jump!"

"I can't!" Pixel knew that if he let go at all, he'd be a goner.

"You'll be fine!"

"No I won't, I'll die!" Pixel closed his eyes.

"Alright, just hold tight then." Sportacus reached out and grabbed the ladder, pulling it in. "You can let go now."

Pixel slowly opened his eyes. He was on the floor of the airship. He let go of the ladder, though it took a great deal of effort, since his fingers had been frozen onto it. He watched it tumble out the hole again, which closed up like a sliding elevator door, the kind they had at city hall and in all his video games.

"You need a rest, don't you," Sportacus said, looking down at him. "How long were you up on that roof?"

"Like, three days." Pixel shrugged. "It was kind of a blur."

"How much of that did you sleep? One night?" Sportacus knelt down to look him in the eyes.

"None of it. I couldn't hold on and sleep at the same time," explained Pixel, almost falling asleep now.

Sportacus shook his head. "Okay, let's get you to bed. Come on." He walked as slow as Pixel did, keeping pace with him. "I'll be right on the other side of the ship if you need me."

Pixel fell into bed, pulling the fluffy comforter around him. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Just as Pixel was about to close his eyes, they focused on something that caught his attention. "Sportacus, your crystal is- who's in- aren't you going to get it?"

Sportacus looked down at the crystal and took it off. "It hasn't stopped, not for a week at least. There's too much trouble." He sounded almost as tired as Pixel felt.

"So are you gonna-"

"Not tonight, Pixel. Sleep tight."

Pixel closed his eyes, and even though it was wonderful to feel just the right temperature, to be in a bed, to be able to sleep, to feel safe, to be off that roof, he also felt that something very wrong was lurking all around them, and if things were too bad for Sportacus to deal with them, then they might be too bad, period.


	8. Chapter 8

"We never introduced ourselves, imagine that! We've been with you for a day and two nights and we haven't even gotten your names!" the woman exclaimed.

There hadn't been much talking at all yesterday, honestly. It was a recuperation day for everyone. The travelers decided not to move on until they could get the kids back on their feet, and so while Stephanie and Stingy had taken naps, done small tasks, and relaxed, Ziggy had lay by the fire, wrapped in lots of quilts. He hadn't woken up yet, which made the grown ups edgy and worried, even though they tried to hide it.

"Well, I'm Stephanie," Stephanie introduced, wiping her hands on her sweatpants before shaking with the grown ups. "And this is-"

"My name is Stingy," said Stingy, offering a hand as well.

"Our friend is Ziggy," she added, pushing her mouth to the side.

The man nodded. "I'm Officer Oliver Obtuse." He smiled when the kids laughed. "And here's my wife, Lorelei."

"But call us Ollie-" His wife put a hand on his chest. "-and Lolly!" She moved it to her own chest. "Isn't that nice, and it rhymes!"

"Nice to meet you," Stephanie said. She grinned. She loved them already.

Even Stingy smiled a little bit. "Do you have any books?" he asked. He hadn't read anything since they left, and it was wearing on him. The adults were going to have them rest until Ziggy woke up, so might as well do something while they were at it.

"Eh… no," Ollie said, looking down. "I have my guitar, but no books."

"And I've a few books, but they're all informational," added Lolly. "The only thing you'd like is my drum."

Stephanie gasped. "Will you play for us? Please?" She hadn't heard music in far too long.

Ollie exchanged a glance with his wife. "Alright." He went over to the case and unzipped it, bringing out his guitar, an instrument covered in beautiful carvings.

Lolly went and fetched her drum out of her basket, shaped like a big tambourine without the metal. It was played with what looked like a little two ended wooden spoon. She started to play, her hand going too fast to see, in a rolling rhythm that made Stephanie smile. Ollie joined in, plucking out a melody reminiscent of mist and waves crashing onto a rocky shore.

Stephanie leaned into Stingy, laughing, and saw that he was grinning too. "Wanna dance?" she asked, over the music.

"I don't dance," Stingy answered, crossing his arms.

"Everyone dances," said Stephanie, and she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.

"Ugh, fine," he spat, rolling his eyes, and put his arms around her neck. They skipped around the fire, spinning and occasionally tripping themselves up only to scramble to their feet again. He was laughing so hard, by the end of the song, that he was almost crying, and Stephanie, laughing too, hugged him tightly.

Someone was clapping, and they looked up at the grown ups, and then down at Ziggy.

"Great job, guys," Ziggy whispered, putting his hands back down to keep himself steady.

"Ziggy!" Stephanie yelled, dropping to her knees and hugging him too.

Stingy was shaking his head, his hands over his smile. "Oh my god."

"Be careful, okay? I'm really dizzy." Ziggy's voice never went above a whisper, the kind used when trying to hide a conversation from parents at a sleepover.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Stephanie said, resting back on her feet. "You're okay!"

Stingy sat down with them. "Did you think you were dead?"

"I didn't think anything," whispered Ziggy. "That was wonderful music."

"Oh, right! This is Ollie and Lolly, they saved you and we've been staying with them," Stephanie explained, gesturing back to the grown ups.

Ziggy waved, smiling. "I like those names."

Ollie came over, having set his guitar on the ground. He was followed by his wife. "What do you feel like doing, little man?"

"Going back to sleep," Ziggy said, laughing quietly.

Lolly shot her husband a nervous glance.

"Let's try and stand up, okay?" Ollie suggested. He held out his hands for Ziggy to take, and they stood together.

"I don't like it," Ziggy said immediately. "I'm too dizzy, put me back!"

Ollie sat him down again. "Alrighty. You get to take a nap, then, but get up for dinner, okay?"

"Yeah, I can't wait," sighed Ziggy, settling himself back into his blankets and closing his eyes.

"I can't believe it," Stephanie said, once she'd gotten to the other side of the fire. "He's alright! He's alright, Stingy."

"I know," replied Stingy, not sharing her enthusiasm. "I just- I have this feeling that there's something wrong. I know he woke up and stuff, but… I don't know."

"That's not a nice way of thinking about it." But once he said it, Stephanie couldn't shake the very same feeling. "I'm going to write in my diary. Um, Stingy… I have a book in my backpack."

"Really?" Stingy gasped.

"It's not a story story, it's just Norse myths. But you can read it if you want." She pulled out her diary and the book.

"If I want?" Stingy snatched it out of her hand. "Boy, do I ever!" He wrapped himself up in a quilt and sat in front of the fire, starting to read.

Stephanie sighed, lying down on her stomach with her diary.

 _Dear diary,_

 _Ziggy woke up today. It was only for a few minutes, but now I know he's going to be okay. Stingy doesn't. He thinks there's something wrong with how Ziggy's tired or dizzy. Everything's probably fine, though. The travelers are named Oliver and Lorelei, and they're nicer than ever. They played a song for us and it was so fun to dance again. I think they would get along with Sportacus._

 _I've been wondering something, diary. I know it's selfish to think that he'd put us over people who are actually in danger, but Sportacus was sort of like our special hero. He stayed with us in Lazytown. So I'm not sure what's going on now. Maybe he really does just have bigger problems to deal with, but what if something happened to him? Far fetched and self centered, I know. But I would like to think he'd have come and visited me by now. It feels like forever since I've seen him._

 _Who knows? Maybe he's in Lazytown right now, taking care of… whoever's left. He did promise to come back to the town, not to me. I hope that's where he is, and I hope he's doing alright._

 _I should be more grateful for how things are going. Ziggy is going to be fine, I have him and Stingy with me and we're safe for now, and there are adults looking after us. Everything is going pretty much as good as it could go. I mean, there are zombies and we have almost no food of our own left, but it could be way worse. And plus, there's a book I think we could use. Lolly has a few informational books, she said, and they're about really useful stuff. Ollie showed me the first night, to keep me occupied, and one of them was a book of edible plants. If we could study that, then we'd be much better off for food when we do run out. We could just find things to eat wherever we go!_

 _That sounds like a game I used to play with Trixie and Ziggy. We would go around the gardens and see what we could make, like different salads and things. Then we would pretend to be in a restaurant and serve them to each other. That was a good game._

 _Well, diary, I'm going to check on Ziggy._

 _Without wax, Stephanie_

She got up and went over to Ziggy, who was still sleeping, and pet his hair, gazing into the fire.

Across the camp, the grown ups were talking in hushed voices, glancing over the fire to the kids occasionally.

"We've got to continue on our way," said Ollie. "It's so dangerous to stay in one place for too long, and I feel we've already pushed our luck with this camp."

"They're so young," Lolly sighed. "And smart. We can give them a few things, can't we?"

"Of course. It'll be hard to say goodbye to that little girl." Ollie looked over at Stephanie. "So brilliant. She'll make it through this, Lorelei, I know it."

"They all will."


End file.
